


magic ink

by the_problem_with_stardust



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College Student Stiles, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Future Fic, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Injuries, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-03 17:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: Stiles shifted, shirt collar slipping down enough to reveal dark ink curling over the base of his neck. Derek just about swallowed his tongue.“Is that a tattoo?”





	magic ink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenwolf36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenwolf36/gifts).



> For [@ravenwolf36!](http://ravenwolf36.tumblr.com)
> 
> Written for the prompt "Is that a tattoo?"

Derek got to his feet slowly, wiping mud and monster guts out of his eyes. It was almost the same as any other day in Beacon Hills, save for one thing. This time, Stiles was home for the summer.

And he turned out to be the perfect secret weapon against the pixies that had been plaguing the town for weeks. Unfortunately, werewolves weren’t equipped to deal with small flying creatures. So Scott and Derek had implemented failed plan after failed plan, finally resorting to calling Lydia to test if a banshee scream would work over the phone. It did, but it only bought them a day of reprieve.

“You good?”

Derek startled, ears still ringing from the concussive force of the banishing spell. Stiles was standing just behind him, blood soaking through his plaid shirt.

It took a moment for Derek to find his voice. “Is your dad home?”

Stiles shook his head. “He’s on a double tonight.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“What?” The confusion meant Stiles was too hyped on adrenaline to realize he’d had half a tree collapse on him.

“You’re bleeding.”

Stiles blinked, then glanced down at the dark red stain stretching from shoulder to elbow. “Oh.” He stumbled a little, knees going weak at the sight of blood.

Luckily Derek’s reflexes had recovered enough to catch him before he could injure himself further. “I’m driving.”

This time Stiles didn’t protest.

The Jeep still smelled the same, like Stiles and too much fast food. It was comforting to know that even though a year had passed, some things didn’t change. Derek left Stiles leaning against the passenger door and unearthed a ragged towel from the trunk. Bloodstains and upholstery weren’t a good mix.

When they pulled up in front of the Stilinski residence, the Sheriff’s cruiser was absent from the driveway. Derek put the Jeep in park and walked around to the passenger’s side, gently shaking Stiles awake.

“Come on. I’ll help you take care of your arm.”

Stiles looked dazed, which was probably not a good sign. Derek made a mental note to spend more time researching human first aid. Maybe Melissa could recommended something better than WebMD.

Once in the bathroom, Stiles shrugged out of his flannel outer layer, carefully peeling it away from the long-sleeved Batman shirt underneath. He made a face. “I need to stop wearing the shirts I like to monster smack downs.”

He shifted, shirt collar slipping down enough to reveal dark ink curling over the base of his neck. Derek just about swallowed his tongue.

“Is that a tattoo?”

“Hmm?” Stiles glanced toward the mirror, wincing when he moved too fast. “Yeah, it’s part of my training.”

Right. Dealing with injuries first, ogling his crush later. Derek reached for Stiles’ hand to siphon away some of his pain. “Can you take your shirt off or do you need help?”

“Help. I think my ribs are messed up.”

Derek’s claws made short work of the fabric, even though Stiles grumbled the whole time.

“You didn’t have to actually cut it off. I could’ve lifted my arms.” He frowned, poking at the red and purple marks painting his side. “Maybe.”

Derek sighed, trying not to get distracted by the patterns inked into Stiles’ skin. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“Do you think I need stitches?” The long cut on his bicep had already stolen Stiles attention away from the tattered remains of his shirt.

The question drew Derek up short. “I don’t know. Should I call Melissa?” He had no idea when humans needed stitches or not.

Stiles made a noncommittal noise. “She’s working. Maybe just clean it out and wrap it up. We can call her in the morning.”

That Derek could do. He pulled out the first aid kit, digging through the supplies until he found the saline solution and antiseptic wipes. Keeping a steady hand on Stiles’ arm, he cleaned and taped the wound, only letting go to wrap it in gauze.

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Derek helped Stiles down from the counter. He left the mess to deal with later, instead escorting Stiles to his room.

“Thanks for making sure I didn’t die.” Stiles settled back against his pillow. When Derek didn’t move from the doorway, he opened his eyes again. “Okay, seriously. What’s up with you today?”

Derek shifted uneasily, thinking about making a break for it. Before he could, the door slammed shut behind him.

Stiles frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to trap you in here.”

“No, it’s okay. We probably need to talk about this.”

Heartrate picking up, Stiles laughed nervously. “That’s not ominous at all.”

“I really like your tattoos.” Derek said, then froze. That wasn’t what he was planning to say at all.

Stiles didn’t react at first, keeping Derek on edge. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. You like my tattoos. Like in an aesthetically pleasing way? Or in a ‘wow I’m attracted to you’ way?”

“The last one.” Derek ducked his head. “But it’s more than just attraction, at this point.”

Stiles groaned. “For real?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to get over it and I promise I won’t make you uncomfortable.” Derek probably would have kept going, but Stiles was flapping his good arm in his direction.

“No, shush. Get over here.”

Bewildered, Derek sat down on the edge of the bed.

Stiles struggled to sit up, bracing himself on his good arm. “I’ve been in love with you since high school, dude. Any other time and I would’ve totally jumped you. But right now I just want to lie here and maybe sleep.”

Derek let out a breath, relieved that this wasn’t a rejection. “How about for now we get some sleep and maybe revisit the other idea when you’re feeling better.”

Stiles grinned, so bright that Derek had to kiss him.

“I’d love that.”

So Derek kicked out of his jeans and tugged off his filthy shirt. He paused to turn off the lights, looking at Stiles who was watching him with a soft smile.

Maybe the pixies weren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me [prompts](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com/tagged/prompts) or just say hello on [tumblr!](https://theproblemwithstardust.tumblr.com)


End file.
